


Thank You For That, Andrew Minyard

by Cuppa_Char



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Panic Attack, andrew's pov, canon-divergent, injured neil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppa_Char/pseuds/Cuppa_Char
Summary: Browning gives Neil back.---Andrew, Abby and Wymack look after Neil after The FBI let him go.





	Thank You For That, Andrew Minyard

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon-divergent/a missing scene, in Andrew's pov, after he and Neil return to Abby and Wymack's room after the FBI have finished grilling Neil. 
> 
> There's some quotes from The King's Men (particularly from the scene I am referring to in the book) but this is an alternative scene that I had in my head if Andrew vetoed Neil and made them stay the night.

 

_Thank You For That, Andrew Minyard_

 

 

Wymack has left to get the bus and Neil’s standing in front of Abby looking like the mess he is.

“Let me take a look at you,” Abby says, with her arms held out as though she expected him to crawl right into them.

Andrew watches as Neil clumsily climbs over the bed before falling to his knees. Andrew immediately follows him, sliding behind him, quietly encouraging Neil to untuck his knees and sit. Neil tries, wincing and stiffly trying to uncurl his uncomfortable position, until Andrew rests his hand gently under his calf.

“Yes or no?” he asks, breathing softly against Neil’s ear.

Neil nods jerkily in front of him and Andrew, just this once, ignores the fact that Neil hadn’t voiced the answer, helping to pull and lift Neil’s legs out from underneath his perched position.

Neil fumbles with something in front of him and a second later he sees Abby pick the white pharmacy bag up and move it to the side.

Andrew remains silent, pressed softly against Neil’s back, offering what little support he can as Abby gets to work.

Neil stiffens slightly when Abby reaches for the bandages on his face and Andrew just lets his chest press a little more into Neil’s back in silent support. Andrew had seen Neil’s face earlier when Neil had compliantly let Andrew manoeuvre him around. Neil had handed himself over to him as though he knew Andrew had needed it as the rage in him had settled like cold ice.

He watches now as Abby’s face settles into hard lines and frowns, anger puckering her brow. Neil had tucked his head down at first, but with a few sharp prompts from Andrew, lifts it again to allow Abby to finish her ministrations.

Andrew shifts forward a little When Abby moves on to Neil’s arms. He hadn’t got the chance to look anywhere else apart from Neil’s face and a cursory glance at his bandaged hands when they had been granted their measly twenty minutes with him the previous day.

He sucks in a breath when he sees the state off them but doesn’t say anything. Long scratches, parallel lines and bloody scabs littered his arms. None looked as though they needed stitches but they still looked like a fucking mess. Amongst them were burns, just like his face, littered up and down his arm, reaching down to his wrist. There were bruising around his wrists too, a tell-tell sign that at some point a pair of handcuffs had been put on too tightly, and by the state of Neil’s skin, torn and bloody, he’d clearly resisted violently. Dark bruising also littered his hands and covered his thumb. The burn’s weren’t limited to just his arms and face, they were also over each of his knuckles. Andrew dragged in another levelled breath, it was bad enough that anyone had even touched Neil against his consent, had hurt him… but this level of hurt was strategic and premediated. They had planned to torture him and had succeeded.

_“Don’t come to me when someone breaks your face.”_

Andrew bites down on his own tongue, remembering the last thing he had said to Neil, but this was not the time to lose his shit.

“Oh my god, Neil…” Abby says, swallowing hard.

Neil looks down and flexes his fingers as though he was testing their flexibility.

It only takes a second for Andrew to realize something is wrong. Neil trembles violently against him, breath suddenly wheezing out of him in a high pitched keening moan. With no hesitation at all, Andrew has his hand on him, fingers pressing hard into the clammy skin of his neck, pushing his head down.

He feels Neil’s attempt at taking in a breath but Andrew doesn’t like how it sounds, too tight and gasping, still struggling.

“It’s over,” Abby says. “It’s over. You’re going to be okay. We’ve got you.”

She tries to reach for him again but Neil violently flinches back into Andrew.

“Don’t,” Andrew sharply says.

Andrew isn’t sure who he’s directing it at but both Neil and Abby react.

Abby pulls her hand back and Neil freezes against Andrew. It doesn’t stop the too quick and shallow breaths he’s making though. In-out-in-out. In-out-in-out. In-out-in-out.

Andrew sees him flex and clench his fingers again, hands scrabbling to take purchase of something, desperately twisting into the sheets beneath them. Some of the scabby wounds split open again, bubbling with blood and smearing into the sheets. A gasp shudders out of him.

“Stop it,” Andrew orders sharply against his ear.

The words seem to penetrate some of the panic because Neil manages a hiccup into his gasping breaths. The little interval seems to help a little and he manages to drag a breath into the gap it had made. And then a second and third comes. Andrew murmurs quietly behind him, encouraging Neil with his own slow and steady breaths, chest and back still pressed together.

Neil shudders quietly and at Abby’s glistening eyes Andrew realizes he’s crying. He lightly drags his hand around Neil’s throat and tips his head back so it thunks gently against Andrew’s collarbone. From this angle he can see silent tears wet against his cheeks. No other sound passes apart from the occasional hiccup, but the pain in Neil’s eyes – desperate and anguished – sink deep into chest.

“Fuck,” Andrew hisses before rearranging himself on the bed in a few quick, sharp movements so that he was leaning against the headboard of the bed. He drags Neil with him, pulling him up and across his lap sideways so he was still facing Abby.

He hadn’t asked Neil yes or no this time and Neil didn’t resist as he went limp against him, re-tucking his re-bandaged face against Andrew’s collar-bone. Andrew tightens his hold, pulling him against him and sliding his hand back up against the back of Neil’s neck.

“Here,” Abby says, as she shakes out some of the painkillers the hospital had sent with Neil. “Get him to take these. We need to get his shirt off so I can bandage his arms properly and I want to see if he’s hurt anywhere else.” Abby pauses, pushing the pills and some water over to him. “And I’d rather do it when he’s in less pain.”

Neil whimpers quietly into his neck and Andrew Shh’s him with more heat then he intended. Neil wouldn’t normally be this timid but Andrew knows he’s scared, in pain, and the shock was now only probably hitting him.

Andrew had seen Neil on the verge of panic before, had seen him drift and lose himself in memories, but this was different. The panic attack he’d just witnessed had been the worst he’d seen and now, with Neil pressed against him, Neil seemed to be a shadow of himself. _Or not_ , Andrew thinks. If you stripped away the Exy gear, the walls he had built around himself, including the smart mouth and attitude, then maybe this was the real Neil. Lost, scared and alone, a canvas of the abuse he had been put through.

Neil tried to resist the pills but with a stern warning and a half-hearted “I fucking hate you,” that left Neil’s mouth twitching in a weak imitation of his usual smile, he had reluctantly let Andrew shove them into his mouth, followed with a few small gulps of water.

The pills were obviously a little stronger than your usual fanfare. Neil goes slacker against him and Abby murmurs at him to help him out of his shirt.

“-Ndrew…” Neil slurs at him as he manoeuvres uncooperative limbs out of arm holes. “Feel sick…”

“You _feel_ sick?” Andrew asks, pulling the last arm out and dipping Neil’s head down to pull it over the rest of his head. He lifts it back again once it is completely removed so Neil can see his face. “Or you _are_ going to be sick?”

He watches as Abby reaches out and snags the garbage can and dumps it between the beds.

“Don’t know?” Neil says, sounding confused. He turns away to look at where Abby is staring at a bruise on his side from where someone had obviously kicked him hard against his ribs.

“Can I?” Abby asks in permission, hand reaching out.

Neil nods his acquiesce.

“Words, Neil…” Andrew says this time.

“Yes,” Neil says, voice softly curled as it drifts with the meds.

Andrew watches as Abby presses against the bruise, palpitating it slightly. She pulls back when Neil winces sharply.

“Bruised most likely,” Abby nods at Andrew. “I don’t think they’re broken.”

Andrew glances at his exposed back and can see the distinctive shape of a boot against his spine. At some point someone had stepped on Neil and held him down with their weight.

Abby starts back on Neil’s arms and at some point Andrew realizes Neil is staring up at him, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Don’t wanna look,” Neil says at Andrew’s questioning look.

Abby was halfway done when Wymack returned.

He gives one cursory look at Neil and Andrew’s position, raising an eyebrow, before moving across the room to Abby. He ends up between the beds, studying Neil with dark eyes, anger hard across his face.

Neil fists one of his hands into Andrew’s shirt.

“Are we spending the night here?” Wymack asks.

“I hate Baltimore,” Neil mumbles. “Can we go?”

“How much longer do you need?” he asks, directing the question to Abby.

“Ten minutes, maybe,” Abby says. “We’ll be done by the time everyone’s checked out and on the bus.”

“I’ll round them up. They won’t bother you until we’re back on campus,” Wymack promises Neil.

“No,” Andrew says quietly, although everyone hears, and Neil twitches against him.

“Andrew,” Wymack starts to say.

“No,” Andrew repeats. He glances down at Neil who’s looking at him with a confused frown, eyes half-lidded and clearly fighting sleep. He looks back up and stares at them. “He’s fucking as high as a kite right now. He needs to sleep and lying on a bench on the bus is going to leave him in a world of pain tomorrow, on top of all of his injuries. And I know you said the others won’t bother him with any questions but they’ll still be there with their stupid fucking guilt and pity,” he pauses and tightens his hold on Neil’s frame. Neil’s head lolls a little, eyes even more glassy and unfocused. “And I’d rather he not have to face that when he’s like this.”

“He has a point,” Abby nods up at Wymack.

Wymack sighs and nods, dropping down on to the arm chair beside Abby’s bed.

“Tomorrow morning,” Wymack agrees.

Neil’s slow blinking eyes finally drift close and Abby stands up to reach for him. She pauses when Andrew glares at her.

“You can’t lie like that all night, Andrew,” she gestures at them. “He needs to lie down flat and you need to get some sleep too.”

“I’m fine,” Andrew says. He doesn’t intend to sleep, not until they were back home and Neil was out of his medicated sleep.

He ignores Abby’s pointed stare and nods when she gestures at Neil again. Between them they manage to slide Neil off Andrew’s lap and lay him down on the bed. It was a testament to how out of it Neil was, eyes closed, body limp and boneless.

Abby and Wymack leave to get some air and Andrew waits until he hears the click of the door before he slides down the bed and settles beside Neil, leaving a small gap between their bodies as he watches over him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Andrew wakes with a start.

H doesn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers was seeing Neil’s rhythmic chest rising and falling with each breath.

Wymack is asleep on the chair, head tipped back and snoring lightly, legs perched up on the edge of the bed. Abby was asleep on the top of her bed, fully clothed.

Andrew wasn’t sure what had woken him until he heard a slight hitching breath.

Neil must have turned onto his side sometime during the night. Right now, he was curled into a tight ball, which probably wasn’t helping his bruised ribs any.

Another hitch of breath.

“Hey,” Andrew murmurs quietly, rolling up and leaning over him.

One of Neil’s bandaged hands was twisted tightly into the bed sheet. His face seemed to be pushed hard against the bed, his eyes squeezed tight as though he was in pain. It didn’t take a genius to realize Neil was causing the pain – well more than what he was in already – by the twisting motion or the fact he was rubbing his _bandaged_ face against the surface of the bed.

“Stop that,” Andrew says, clasping his own hand over the bandaged one.

Neil shudders at the touch but doesn’t push him away. A whimper fills the gap between them. Thankfully Neither Abby or Wymack wake at the sound.

“You’re not there,” he tells Neil quietly. “You’re here with me in a crappy motel. The foxes are in the other room and Abby and Coach are just over there fast asleep.”

Neil stills his movements as though he’s listening, so he continues. “You’re name is Neil Josten. And Nathan Wesninski is dead.”

Neil remains silent so Andrew leans over him, still mindful of leaving a gap between their bodies.

“Okay?” he asks when he needs confirmation that Neil was back in the room and had heard him.

He sees Neil nod his head against the sheets.

“Use your words, Neil,” Andrew orders.

“Yes,” Neil croaks beneath him.

“Good,” Andrew says, rolling away and on to this back.

After a beat he hears “Thank you” from the other side of the bed.

Andrew winces and bites his lip and suddenly he’s back in the locker room with Neil in front of him. _Thank you. You were amazing._

“I don’t want to hear those words from you ever again,” he says, anger lacing his words.

“I’m sorry,” Neil says and Andrew hates the pathetic way it sounds. “I didn’t…”

“Come here,” Andrew cuts him off and pats the gap between them.

Neil hesitates for a second before rolling over so that he was now facing him. Andrew gives him a cursory look over, checking to see that the bandage was still in pace and there was no blossoming blood. Satisfied he looks back up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t know how to tell you something was wrong,” Neil continues.

“You didn’t have to. I knew something wasn’t right as soon as you stepped into the room.”

Neil nods and lays a hesitant hand next to Andrew’s own one.

Andrew sighs and lifts it away, hovering it over Neil’s shoulder.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil says and Andrew brings his arm down and around Neil, pulling him so he filled the gap.

“Never thank me again for not being like your dad,” Andrew tells him.

“I…” Neil starts. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“Yes it was,” Andrew argues back. “You thanked me for not fucking torturing you. For treating you the way you should have been treated all along. ”

“I didn’t know what I was thanking you for,” he admits and then sighs. “I just had to do it.” He pauses and then a beat later. “Can I thank you for something else instead?”

“Like what?”

“Like accepting me for who I am?”

“No,” Andrew growls and squeezes him, a little too lightly by the way Neil winces. “You’re useless.”

Neil huffs at his side.

“Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Go back to sleep,” Andrew orders again. “Or I will stick you in a medically induced coma again. Those pills are the good shit by the way they knocked you out earlier.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Neil huffs again, turning slightly but still resting on Andrew’s arm. “And I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m gonna say it again. Not for anything before, but for tonight in general. You looked after me when I couldn’t look after myself. So thank you for that, Andrew Minyard.”

“Fucking useless,” Andrew sighs.

It takes about another twenty minutes before Neil finally falls asleep again and Andrew carries on laying  there, watching him, until he too allows himself to join him.

 

* * *

 

 

_Finis_

 


End file.
